


Orchid

by LEGUNDY



Series: LEGUNDERY Kinktober 2020 [22]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Bruises, Choking, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEGUNDY/pseuds/LEGUNDY
Summary: "White and purple. It looks nice together." He was tracing the outline of one such bruise with his eyes, as if trying to discern a Rorschach test. "Like an orchid."
Series: LEGUNDERY Kinktober 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950034
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Orchid

Every bruise told a different story. He could trace the shape of them, the deeper colors, the lighter shades, and remember the pressure and outline of fingers or hands or objects that created the discoloration. One hand under his hip, forcing him up and into his crotch as he pressed himself between his legs. Fingers so tight in his thighs that he felt the skin might split open as his legs were pulled apart, forced wider until he felt tears pricking at his eyes. Red and scraggly rings around his wrists, the remnants of scratchy rope still making him itchy when he caught them if his sleeves slid too high. Puckers and red kisses dotting his neck and collar, so warm he could almost feel the lips that made them when he touched them.

"Going to bed?" Will looked at him. He was hanging in the doorway, arms crossed and a smile painted on. He had a constant, niggling feeling that he was getting sick of him. When he seemed to come to him of his own volition, those worries temporarily faded. 

"Not without you," Will said, crossing the room to him. They kissed for just a moment before the older man's arm wrapped around his waist, tugging Will along close and leading him away from his own room.

When he was naked, his whole body was on display, and the man wasted no time in gazing upon it. He purposefully kept himself covered - it was a pain to explain away all the marks otherwise - and so being nude below him, each swelling, colored bruise being one of his own making… Will could see the pleased look in his eye. 

"You're so pale," he said, which Will would argue that he wasn't, but he also had barely been outdoors in the past five months. He probably was pale. "White and purple. It looks nice together." He was tracing the outline of one such bruise with his eyes, as if trying to discern a Rorschach test. "Like an orchid."

"An orchid," Will repeated, tasting the identification. It was too basic. There were so many colors on his skin - browns and yellows and greens and reds alongside the purple. He was a garden, not a simple potted plant. He couldn't be confined by a single variety.

"I wonder if it would even hurt anything inside." He felt his breath in his neck before he heard it in his ear. "Blood vessels repair themselves so easily, but what about something deeper?"

Will stared up at the ceiling. He knew he didn't want an answer, but he wished he could voice one anyway. He turns his mouth into his neck instead, kissing gently.

"Or maybe something a little more visible." He watched as he rose up on his knees and smiled down at Will. He watched as his fingers glided around his neck, smoothing the skin gently. "You can hide almost anything I do to you. How will anyone know how well I'm taking care of you if you keep doing that?" His airway started to shrink. He felt the heat of his palms, of his thumbs, his fingers, all pressing new marks into him. He felt his throat close fully beneath his hands. "And how will I get to observe my handiwork?" His own hands rose weakly to grab his elbows, but he put no energy into trying to remove his hands. It was only a bruise. He wouldn't do anything more than a bruise. "Your body really is a work of art, Will." He opened his mouth as if that would allow him to get more air, but instead he lost whatever was left. He coughed once, and the squeezing intensified. He could feel his skin straining. He felt the color seep from his vision. He knew part of it was flooding into his neck. His hands pulled at his wrists, then his hands, his knees jerked, his eyes went wide, he clenched his toes as he felt his heart pounding, desperate, terror, color, too much color, not enough - 

He sucked in a grateful, painful breath when he let go, which immediately erupted into coughs and wheezes. He sat up and curled in on himself, fingers going around his own neck as if to confirm the other pair was gone, that he was no longer being choked. They were on his back now, he realized, gently stroking his skin and his voice was murmuring sweet words. He leaned to the side into his body with a shudder.

In the morning, he brushed his teeth while staring at the fresh ring of red around his neck. He pressed one finger against it, watching the colors fade into a bright, pressurized white, then return when he removed the weight. He scratched, observing the same result fade faster. 

A garden, he reminded himself. Not a potted plant - a garden.

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize these characters it's because they've been featured in this series before! Specifically in Late Night Call for Help. (Yes, the older man has a name, but I kind of like the mystique it gives the relationship and him by not using it... Sorry if it's confusing, but it's been a good writing exercise for me! Keeps me from relying on the same sentence structure over and over.)


End file.
